Saturday, October 29

I'm very fortunate. Since coming out, I've been surrounded by friends, family and co-workers who accept me. Sexual orientation has never been an issue -- much less a problem.

However, every once in a while I experience something that reminds me that society has stacked the deck against me.

Take Thursday night, for example, when I went looking for an anniversary card. (For those of you who don't know, Britt and I are celebrating three years together today.) I browsed dozens, if not hundreds, of cards at Target and CVS and found very few that apply to Britt and me.

Most of the cards made explicit references to husbands and wives. Others spoke of marriages and weddings. And when I found a card with a message I liked, the artwork showed a man and a woman. Out of countless cards, I only found two that I thought would be appropriate for Britt and me -- and neither of them I liked very much. I bought them both anyway. What else could I do? Commission a special-order card from the Blue Mountain Arts folks? Protest outside Hallmark headquarters? Organize a letter-writing campaign to American Greetings?

I'm sure I could have found a card at a gay bookstore but, alas, the one in our neighborhood shut its doors a few months ago. Too much competition from Borders and Starbucks, I guess. The nearest gay bookstore now is in St. Petersburg.

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About Me

David Simanoff was 7 pounds, 14 ounces, and 20 inches long at birth. He is now much larger, and sometimes answers to the name Skippy. Many people have said that Mr. Simanoff is the finest haiku writer of his generation, but those people are mostly liars and cannot be trusted.